


Fantaisie Impromptu

by MediumSizedEvil



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediumSizedEvil/pseuds/MediumSizedEvil
Summary: While cleaning out his Nana's apartment Jake gets an unexpected visitor: the piano tuner.Can one piano have two love stories?





	Fantaisie Impromptu

_Where words fail, music speaks_ \- Hans Christian Andersen

  


'Keep anything you want and throw out the rest.' Jake sighed. Unfortunately there was much more in the latter category. He had just picked up another stack of knitting magazines when the bell rang. He put down the pile of paper and went to open the door.

There was a pretty girl with dark sunglasses on the doorstep. “Hello, how've you been?” she asked pleasantly.

“Eh, can I help you?” Jake asked, confused. He was pretty sure he'd never seen her before.

She startled. “Oh, is Mrs. Margot home?”

“No, I'm afraid she passed away quite suddenly last month. I'm just cleaning out the apartment before I move in. I'm her grandson.”

Her face fell. “I'm very sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. Were you a friend?” he asked curiously. He didn't know his grandmother had any friends this young, except for Gina.

“No, I'm the piano tuner. I come every six months.”

“Oh right, the piano.” There was indeed a giant black beast in the living room that was terribly in the way since Jake couldn't play a single note, much to his Nana's regret. But guitars were much cooler, right?

“So do you still want it tuned?” she asked.

“Eh, no thanks. I was planning to get rid of it.”

“If you're going to sell it I would advise you to have it tuned first to fetch the best price,” she argued.

“Actually I was just going to chop it up because it doesn't fit through the door.”

She gasped. “No! Don't do that, please! It's a very special piano.”

“Eh okay?”

“Can I show you, please?” she asked. “Can I come in?” She put her foot on the threshold insistently.

Jake shrugged. “Okay.” He was a bit bored after working alone in the apartment all day, and she was pretty cute.

She entered the apartment and put a hand on the wall to guide her. Jake suddenly realised why she was wearing sunglasses. She almost tripped over a stack of klezmer records he had put on the floor.

“Sorry for the mess! Do you need any help?”

“No, I can find my way.”

She knew exactly where to find the piano, carefully avoiding further obstacles. She sat down on the bench, carefully opened he keyboard lid and began to play.

He stared at her open-mouthed as her fingers flew over the keys at astonishing speed, producing a beautiful waterfall of sound, clear and fresh. He briefly closed his eyes and imagined wading into the stream, submerging himself in the melody and being transported by the flow. He wanted to lie down underneath the piano and feel the music wash over him, like he used to do as a little boy before his Nana's arthritis got too bad. Unfortunately there were lots of boxes there now that he may or may not have put there himself.

Her face lit up in concentration with the ghost of a smile on her lips, her hands flying across the keyboard, light as a feather. He could only watch her, mesmerized by the music. When she had finished playing she slowly turned to him. “Now do you believe me? This is an incredible instrument.”

He awoke from his reverie with a shock. He had forgotten it was about the piano, he was only looking at her. He coughed. “Yes, I suppose it sounds good. Really good. But the thing is, I can't play the piano, and my friend Charles said that if it's not a Steinway it's not worth the trouble of selling.”

She smiled. “No, it's not a Steinway.” She lovingly touched the gold lettering above the keyboard. “It's a Bösendorfer.” She let her finger slide over the keys in a brief cascade of notes. “But you can read that, so it obviously means nothing to you.”

He shook his head. Then he realised she couldn't see him. “No.”

“Well I suppose you know about cars, right?” She didn't wait for an answer. “Now imagine a Steinway is like a Mercedes. What you have here is a Rolls-Royce.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, then I guess you'd better give it a service.”

“Great! I can make her sound even better, I promise.” She got up from the bench. “I'm Amy, by the way. Amy Santiago.”

He shook her hand. “Jake Peralta.”

“I know. You're a cop,” she said wistfully.

He wondered for a moment if she was clairvoyant before remembering that his grandmother had loved talking about him to all and sundry.

Amy put her bag on the bench and walked over to the right side of the piano. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, as she felt a box, a stack of mail and a coffee cup on top of the lid. “You must not put anything on the piano,” she said sternly. “It's bad for the wood.”

“Sorry,” Jake said and quicky moved everthing out of the way. “I didn't know.” Or perhaps Nana had told him once or twice. “All done,” he said, and she carefully opened the lid.

She took out her tools and went to work, tuning one string at a time. Jake wanted to stay and watch her but he figured that would be rude, so he thought of a silent thing to do and settled on packing up his grandmother's clothes for the Salvation Army. (He did not look good in beige.)

He kept sneaking glances into the living room where Amy was busy working at the piano. As he went to the kitchen for a glass of coke an idea occurred to him. He waited until she was finished with a key and coughed to get her attention. “Would you like a drink perhaps? I was just getting something.”

She turned to him. “Yes, thank you, that would be nice. A cup of tea, please.”

“I mean, I don't want to hold you up of course, if you have places to be,” he added hurriedly.

“Oh no, this is my last call for today. I always planned the appointment so that I could have a chat with your grandmother, and I would always play something for her as well. As much a treat for her as for me, believe me. This is my favorite piano,” she said, lovingly stroking the keys.

Jake quickly put the kettle on and rummaged through the kitchen for the tea things.

“So this is your favorite piano?” he asked as he gave her a steaming cup of what he hoped was an adequate brew.

She took a sip and didn't spit it out, so he counted that as a win. “Yes, of all the pianos I tune this one is my favorite. It's a beautiful instrument with a beautiful story. And your grandmother was such a nice lady.”

“A beautiful story, what do you mean? She just gave piano lessons on it.”

Amy frowned. “Did she never tell you how she got it?”

“I think it came from my grandpa's family, that's all I know.”

“Well, your grandmother told me that she came to America with nothing but a bag full of sheet music, and she was very lucky to get a job playing for dinner guests at a grand hotel. And while she played in that dining room night after night a young waiter caught her eye, and his ears were piqued by her music. Then one night he requested a song; it was _Liebestraum_ by Franz Liszt. And that was when she knew, and she poured her heart out in the music, just for him, in a room full of people.” Amy sighed. “They received the piano as a wedding gift from his parents, who just happened to own the hotel - as she found out - because that is where they fell in love. I think it's a wonderful story.”

“But it doesn't have a happy ending,” Jake said. “The hotel went bust, my grandfather died very young and she had to give music lessons to screaming children to make ends meet.”

“But she never sold the piano,” Amy said passionately. “Not even when she was struggling, or when she couldn't play anymore.” Then she put down her empty cup and cleared her throat. “I guess I'd better get back to work.”

Jake washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen while she continued her work. Finally she reached the last string, and with a sigh she put her tools back in her bag. He felt a strange reluctance to see her go. He grabbed his wallet. What does piano tuning cost anyway? To his surprise she sat back down on the bench and started playing a very familiar, jaunty tune.

“Pineapples!” he exclaimed, and immediately felt bad for interrupting her.

But she kept playing and turned to him. “She told me it was your favorite.”

He moved closer to the piano. “Yeah, and I always called it Pineapples. But that can't be the real name?”

“It's called the Pine Apple Rag.”

He frowned. “That's still kinda weird. Well anyway, when I was a kid I always liked it better than the old stuff she played.”

“Yes, it's only a hundred years old,” Amy said dryly.

“Wow, really? I had no idea.”

“It's a ragtime classic. Now this piano is also great for jazz and blues,” she explained, like the perfect saleswoman, and started a plaintive tune that sounded vaguely familiar. Jake sank down in his grandmother's worn armchair and let the beautiful sadness envelope him. He couldn't keep his eyes off Amy. She seemed so wrapped up in the music, her fingers softly caressing the keys. Never before in his life had he wished he was a piano. Then she finished, and there was a long silence. He was afraid to break the spell.

“So a very versatile instrument, in excellent condition,” she concluded at last. “I guess I should be going. I've taken up enough of your time,” she said regretfully, but made no attempt to move.

“Oh no, not at all,” Jake protested. “I've enjoyed having you here. At the piano, I mean.” He stumbled over his words. “Playing music. Okay, well, I guess I'll see you in six months then.”

She frowned. “I thought you were going to sell her?”

“Oh yes, of course. I'm definitely selling her. Definitely. Or not. Maybe I'll take piano lessons, you know.”

She smiled. “Shall I teach you something then, to get started?” She patted the upholstery beside her. “Come on, it's a duet bench.”

He carefully sat down next to her. She smelled good too, like an open window in an old library, he thought distractedly. She took his hand and turned it over, lightly touching his palm and fingers. Jake shivered. “Are you reading my fortune?” he joked.

“Just checking if they're clean,” she said seriously. He found it amusing how possessive she was over his piano. She checked his other hand too. “That's fine. You can touch the piano now.” She guided his hand to the keys. “Like this,” she showed him. “Now just press your finger down, gently...”

Before he knew it he was playing Heart and Soul.

“From the Great American Songbook,” Amy stressed.

He thought of doing it wrong so the lesson would last longer but he couldn't bring himself to deceive her. Besides, he really wanted to impress his teacher.

“Okay, that's great,” she said, and then added an accompaniment to his melody. It was more difficult but also more fun. “Now keep doing that and I'll improvise. Keep a steady rhythm.” She tapped her finger on his shoulder to guide him. “That's good. Keep going.” He had to concentrate hard on playing his measly one-handed part as she went into wild flights of fancy at the other end of the keyboard. “Bit louder, if you can.” Together they sounded great, attuned as one. She finished off with a grand flourish and sighed. A heavy silence fell between them.

He cleared his throat. “That was great. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she said earnestly, as if he'd made any meaningful contribution to the arts. “I love playing duets.”

“Me too. With you,” he said warmly. Suddenly a wild idea came into his head. “So do you want to have it, the piano?”

She smiled sadly. “I couldn't afford it, even if I sold my Bechstein.”

“No, I'll give it to you, for free.”

“You don't know what you're saying. This piano is worth thousands of dollars.”

“Well I was going to chop it to pieces before you showed up, so it's no loss to me. And I want you to have it. Your smile when you play, it lights up the whole room. And the way you touch it, well, you obviously love this piano like no man or woman ever loved an inanimate object before.”

She laughed, and then turned serious. “It's a very kind and generous offer, and I really appreciate it, but I couldn't possibly accept.”

“Okay, then I'll get my axe.”

“No! No!” she exclaimed, spreading her arms over the piano. “I'll take it!”

“Okay, great. Now all we have to do is remove the whole window and hire a crane.”

She tapped her finger on the lid. “Yes, I'll arrange it. I know a specialist.” Then she played a single note, hauntingly and longingly. “But thank you. Thank you so much.” She hesitantly held her hand in front of his face. “May I?”

He nodded nervously. “Sure. Of course. No problem.”

She gently lifted her hand to his brow and explored his face with her fingers, taking her time to catalogue and memorize his features. Then she left one finger lingering on his lips. “But I would like to give you something in return,” she said, slowly leaning closer. “If that's okay?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

She kissed him softly, hesitant at first but then more insistently as she felt his eager response. He wrapped his arms around her and they moved in perfect harmony until he bumped his elbow on the keyboard and the other lady protested loudly. Amy laughed. “And now you're composing!”

“It's a love song,” he said seriously, and kissed her again.

Finally they drew apart, and Amy played a few dramatic chords as a finale. “You know, maybe it's a bit of a hassle, removing the whole window and hiring a crane. What if we just leave the piano here and I come and play for you?”

“I think that's a genius idea.”

She smiled. “I'm so glad I met you, Pineapples.”

 

**Coda**

“We are just like George Sand and Frédéric Chopin.”

“Eh, what?” Jake asked from underneath the piano.

“Just lie down and I'll play the Raindrop Prelude.”

**Author's Note:**

> In this order:
> 
> [Op. 66 (Fantaisie-Impromptu), Frédéric Chopin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FQCW8VSjHY)  
> [Liebestraum No. 3, Franz Liszt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvGowSy3qEE)  
> [Pine Apple Rag, Scott Joplin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbS54VsFCDc)  
> [St. James Infirmary Blues, Traditional](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzEBH6DZJVk)  
> [Heart and Soul, Hoagy Carmichael](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqH5apBj6bE)  
> [Op. 28 No. 15 (Raindrop Prelude), Frédéric Chopin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gV9gUeFHIw)


End file.
